


hunt. chase. kill.

by boltplum



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Choking, Grinding, Humiliation, M/M, POV Billy Hargrove, POV Steve Harrington, Public Sex, Voyeurism, mildly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltplum/pseuds/boltplum
Summary: Steve watched Billy. Billy watched Steve.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	hunt. chase. kill.

**Author's Note:**

> ANOTHER WIP I'M SORRY.

i. steve

Billy Hargrove had seized the ever glorified title of Hawkins High School King. And what a kingdom it was.

There were the teachers waiting to bend over backwards to gently scold, titter, and blush whenever Billy answered a question or interrupted in class.

There was the basketball coach who knew a team star when he saw one.

There was Tommy, the loyal right hand. He held Billy’s cigarettes, supported keg stands, bullied smarter kids into doing their homework for them, popped tabs on beers before handing them over, and he probably served as the fluffer for the girls Billy took to make a mess of behind the bleachers every sixth period after lunch.

Steve knew from experience Tommy wasn’t above sharing. He was, in fact, very far below it. So far he might as well have limboed his way from Steve’s shoulder to as good as tugging on Billy’s dick every time he wanted attention. Recognition for a job well done, shitty as the job may be.

Low standards.

And there were the girls.

“Does he even bathe?” snipped Nancy across from him. She handed Jonathan an apple and he bit into it. Juice dribbled down his chin. “That Hargrove is disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, following said mess as he made his way across the cafeteria with Tina under one arm, the hand of his other vanished somewhere in her thick hair as he nipped at her neck. She giggled. “Gross.”

The thing about Billy Hargrove was that Steve knew he deserved the title of King of Hawkins High. More than Steve ever had.

He wore it well.

Really goddamn well.

Before slipping out the door, Billy’s hand smacked Tina on the ass, lingering to grab and knead while she laughed breathlessly.

The sun outside swallowed them up until all Steve could hear was the echo of their laughter.

  
  
  
ii. billy

The thing about Billy was that he was really good at getting people to love him.

Mostly women. Well, girls his age. And their moms. And their aunts and sisters visiting back home from college for the weekend.

He was really fucking good at it.

Good at making them fall in love for a little while. Good at making them feel alive and rebellious and on the edge of a live wire until their bellies were shaking under his chin and his mouth was dripping.

And he was really good at fucking.

Good at eating them out. Decidedly pro at delivering the female orgasm.

It wasn’t long before word got around school. Around town. Billy Hargrove, that one guy from the school, that junior with the badass ride and slick style. The one who could show anyone with a pussy a damn good time.

He was good at it.

And it did it for him in a way. Made him confident. Made him proud. He could _do that_ when apparently hardly any of the other dicks strutting around could.

Maybe he was only so good in the first place because he preferred to keep them occupied, distracted, satisfied into exhaustion.

They always left him alone after that.

iii. billy

Tommy was the third.

The first wasn’t his fault.

The second, he’d been drunk.

The third time was Tommy giving Billy a weird, too rough handjob in the showers after gym before the rest of the team came in from running laps. The third time was Tommy waiting after, pouting like some kind of bitch.

“What?” Billy mumbled, shoving away from where Tommy had backed him against a locker. He went for his own and spun the lock until it clicked. Snapped his jeans straight before hopping in, dick still dribbling.

Tommy was looking at him still, spunk all over his hand like a smoking gun.

“You want a gold star or something, Hagan?” Billy sneered. “Fuck off. Clean that shit up.”

Tommy did.

Harrington led the others inside the locker room. He laughed at something one of the other guys was saying. Caught Billy’s eye and Billy bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood a second after the pain.

His legs were shaking.

Not right. Not right.

Harrington blinked only when Billy sent a glare back his way. A sniper’s shot. A _fuck off fuck off fuck the hell off_.

Harrington got the hint.

But it wasn’t the right time, wasn’t the right person, and Tommy was still expecting an answer and—

Billy’s legs were shaking.

iv. billy

Billy convinced Carol to let him suck her tits until she came grinding on his leg after school.

Payback.

Normalcy achieved through a little healthy vengeance.

It’s nothing those two haven’t done before. Carol and Tommy were vultures. Carrion loving beasts waiting to claw at scraps. They traded partners and each other like passing a ball during practice, and Billy took advantage of that. Sure. It was safe. Or at least as much as safe meant in a backwater town like Hawkins.

Billy didn’t really like fucking around on girls. Not unless they were bored housewives with unwitting husbands. Girls his age were a little more tough.

Girls his age had boyfriends. Boyfriends like Harrington. The kind that cried when their girlfriend got pissy and didn’t say _it_ back.

Boyfriends like Harrington, not like Hagan.

The kind he couldn’t sway. Couldn’t convince.

Couldn’t allow himself to want.

The kind who would be so pretty and feel so good under his hands. The kind who would as quickly break him before he ever broke them.

That fire...that was what Harrington had.

And that made him difficult. More than all the rest.

An untouchable feast at an otherwise empty table.

It was a goddamn joke was what it was.

  
v. steve

  
  
Steve knew he was tempting fate. He’d never been very good at outrunning the cosmic entity for long.

Barb died and so Steve lost Nancy because he preferred to think it never happened. Steve lost his best friend because he refused to see how jealous, how toxic Tommy was for too long. Steve called Jonathan a queer and probably got a few more punches to the junk than slandering Nancy around town earned him.

Fate always caught up. Liked to kick him in the balls. Repeatedly.

So Steve knew he was pinching the tail of a flame when he left the lunchroom not long after Billy did, his girl of the week under his arm and grinning lips.

Steve wanted to tell himself he hadn’t been looking. Not for Billy.

But.

But Billy was on his knees with his head under Tammy Thompson’s skirt, her arms clutching the sides of Mrs. Click’s desk.

Billy flipped the material up and away, letting it flop back on her stomach. She moaned and bit at her lip until Billy lifted his head to utter a harsh, “Shut it. You wanna get caught?”

Tammy bit her fist and Billy went back between her legs. Not before Steve saw his chin drip.

Jesus.

He was frozen. He had thought Billy was up to no good. Hell, it wasn’t like Steve has never snuck around chasing after girls before Nancy. He’d had his fair share of messes in broom closets and bathroom stalls. One time a supply closet of his freshman English teacher’s room.

But Billy...he was on another level.

Doing...what he was _doing_ , in broad daylight, during lunch, on a teacher’s _desk._

Steve swallowed. An ache twirled through him and he realized he was half hard watching the way Billy ate Tammy out like he had money on the line.

He licked and sucked at her. Got his fingers in her until she was tomato red and squirming, her thighs shaking around his face, jerking up and twitching back down like she didn’t know where to put them.

Billy didn’t let up.

Steve palmed the bulge in his khakis. He licked his lips. Told himself nothing because this—watching _this_ , it was less than nothing. More like catching a rerun on tv. It didn’t warrant a name.

Didn’t deserve to be called out for what it was.

Only.

Only Billy was making Tammy shake and she reared up off the desk, grabbing his hair and making far too much noise to be anything other than what Steve knew it was.

And he still didn’t stop.

Kept at it like a dog at his dish.

And, Christ—

Steve gasped. Tammy blinked blearily toward the door and froze. Smacked and yanked at Billy until blue eyes met his and Steve fucking bolted for the parking lot.

Mistake. Mistake, mistake, a—

He was out of breath and reaching for his door when a hand bearing a gold set of rings clamped down on his wrist.

  
  
  
vi. billy

  
  
Billy did what anybody would.

He chased down Harrington to tell him off. Warn him not to go blabbing and land Billy in suspension or worse, under Neil’s laser attention.

Plus, when all Billy had done upon realizing Harrington was _watching_ him was stay sat there on his knees, blushing, Tammy screeched. Got up and smoothed her skirt down. Screeched in a way only a girl who thought she could sing could to get Billy after Harrington and save her reputation.

She was like, sixteen in a hick town she wanted to leave anyway. Who cared?

But it was Harrington. Harrington who’d seen. Who’d watched. Who was running to his car like a monster was after him.

And maybe that was true.

Billy wrenched him around and slammed him back against his car door. He was red cheeked and scowling at Billy, big brown eyes looking straight at him.

Billy scanned him, giving him his usual tongue-out once over. It made Harrington squirm which was why he loved to do it so much. But then he saw the telling bulge in Harrington’s slacks and it was like he’d been dunked under water.

“It’s not—”

“Looks like you were getting off to little old Tammy and me back there,” Billy said quietly, lacking angry heat. He couldn’t muster it. He was frozen.

“I wasn’t.”

Billy felt the simmer in his throat snap into something hot, something full bodied and angry.

He snarled, said, “I fucking hate liars.” Dug his palm over Harrington’s dick, wanting him to hurt.

Harrington’s eyes fluttered shut before snapping open again.

Billy pressed harder. Got a hand around Harrington’s long, mole dotted throat.

Harrington whimpered.

Billy used his weight to slam Harrington hard, choke him a little harder.

And Harrington choked. Before he moaned.

Billy dropped him like hot coal.

There, on the front of Harrington’s slacks, spreading wetness.

Jesus. Jesus, he could only think.

Billy’s mouth parted.

Harrington wouldn’t look away from the concrete. He shouldered by Billy as he turned to yank his door open.

Billy didn’t blink until Harrington’s BMW had long peeled out of his spot.

Nobody else in the parking lot had paid them any attention. So Billy went back to lunch.


End file.
